From MC's Perspective:
I could feel the tension in the air, a thick and suffocating weight that warned of an imminent disaster. I expected the Don Blaire's people outside to storm in any second, their boots thundering against the wooden floors as they demanded blood. But then—before that chaos could unfold—the inn exploded.
The room was violently torn apart, like it had been hit by a storm made of jagged stone and splinters. A deafening boom rang in my ears as debris flew in every direction, slicing through the air with deadly precision. The very roof I had been standing under a moment ago was gone, ripped away like paper in a gust of wind. The evening sky loomed overhead, dark and foreboding.
Then I saw him—the true cause of this destruction.
